Covet
by VanillaKokain
Summary: Isis loved her brother. But she loved her brother's fiancé, as well. Isis was happy for her brother, but she could have been happier if she was the one wearing Seto Kaiba's ring. Isis grew to hate her brother, but she never wished for him to die.
Isis glanced up from the sauce she was heating on the stove when she heard her cellphone ringing, and the soft, jazzy ringtone she had given her brother let her know that it was Malik calling. She glanced at the clock, eyes widening slightly. Malik never called this late, he always tried to call in the afternoon his time, when it was morning for his siblings so he could wish them well before work. This caused a little panic to spring into her heart, but she buried it down quickly as she answered her phone.

"Hello, Malik."

"Hello, Sister!" He sounded happy and excited, and Isis' panic further calmed. "I'm sorry for calling at such an hour, I know it must be around dinnertime for you, but I just had to tell you right now!"

Malik's voice was tinny and soft as it was filtered through the speaker of her cellphone, and by the distortion on his end, Isis assumed he was outside in the wind.

"Tell me what?" she asked pleasantly, wondering when she had last heard Malik sound so happy. It was a very uncharacteristic mood for her brother to be in, she mused, and she wondered what had managed to put such a cheerful note in his voice. She suddenly remembered Malik mentioning a business trip to Osaka with his boyfriend, Seto Kaiba, and her mood soured slightly.

"Well, you might want to sit down. It's pretty big."

"Oh, Malik, please. Like I'm the type to faint at big news. Just tell me," she repeated, her tone a bit firmer than she'd meant. Malik didn't seem to notice, as she just heard him chuckle.

"Alright, alright. Well-" Malik paused for effect. "Seto _proposed_."

Isis felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. Seto Kaiba…proposed to her brother? She felt light headed, and did end up sitting back down. Malik didn't seem to notice her silence as he rambled on about the details.

"It was so unexpected, Sister. He lied about the Osaka thing, the bastard, and took me to Paris instead. Paris, Sister! I didn't even know where we were until I got out of the plane and saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance. And you know how much I've wanted to visit Paris again. Anyway, it was our last day here, and we were getting ready for dinner, and we had just gotten in the limo when he turned to me and pulled out the ring. He said he was going to wait until after dinner to propose, make it more traditional, but he said he'd explode if he waited any longer!" He laughed softly, amused by the memory, and the image of Malik's smiling face Isis imagined as he told the story felt like a knife in her heart.

"Isn't that so romantic, Sister?"

Isis was surprised by this, as Malik had once told her that Seto Kaiba was the most unromantic person he'd ever dated, but she murmured an agreement either way, still digesting this information, and too heartbroken to give a better, more in-character response. Malik resumed his rambling, talking about the ring Seto had presented him with and how excited he was about this whole thing, and Isis let her mind wander from her brother's voice- she pictured blue eyes and an angular face; broad shoulders and long arms she still wished would embrace her; thin, stern, lips that would now, never kiss her.

Malik interrupted her thoughts saying he had to go very suddenly, that Seto was calling for him, and Isis told him congratulations as genuinely as she could muster before hanging up the phone. She promptly laid her face in her hands, and cried.

She loved her brother, yes.

But she loved Seto Kaiba as well.

* * *

"Winter is no good for me- too many projects to get done before Christmas, too much rush."

Seto Kaiba's stoic voice still managed to make Isis shiver, no matter what he was saying at the time. She cursed herself for choosing a house with such an open plan layout that combined the living room and dining room into one room, only separated by a wall no taller than her ribs. She could hear each word that her love and her brother said, and the book she had been trying to read sat forgotten in her hands. She didn't understand why they were discussing wedding plans right now, when Rishid had _so kindly_ invited them to dinner, but she assumed it was because the gods wanted to torment her. They had brought over a briefcase stuffed with planners and notebooks and catalogs, which were all spread out on the table despite Rishid almost being done cooking dinner.

"Well, fine with me. I want something outdoors, anyway." Her brother's voice, back to his usual cold tone as the excitement from the proposal died out, filtered into the living room, and Isis frowned.

Seto huffed, and Isis recognized this as his laugh. "Yes, I'm sure the media will be impressed with an outdoor wedding."

"Who says we have to impress them? That's already impossible when you're marrying the 'exotic bad boy' you know," came Malik's sarcastic reply, and Isis' frown hardened at the reference to a headline about her brother and her love in a gossip magazine a year ago.

" _Kaiba Corp CEO seen with exotic bad boy! Seto Kaiba's dirty little secret exposed!"_ she remembered the yellow font screaming clearly. The headline had been accompanied two slightly blurry pictures; one of Seto on the back of Malik's motorcycle, arms tight around his waist and chin on his shoulder; the second one was Seto with his feet on the ground and Malik still on the bike, Seto's hands in Malik's hair and the two kissing. It had been quite the scandal, even within their own households, and Isis remembered the fights she and Malik had had about it.

As far as she knew, it was the push those two needed to take their casual fling to the next level, become serious and, eventually, move in together.

Isis heard Seto's huffy laugh again, and she bit her lip at how seductive the tone was. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Malik." She heard two barely audible chuckles, and then silence, and without looking up she knew the two had begun kissing. She closed her eyes as if she could see it, hands gripping her book so tight she bent the paperback cover.

After a few moments she heard Malik speak again.

"Alright, so then- spring?" Isis chose to ignore the slight breathlessness in his voice. "In a lush garden maybe, lots of sunlight, and the scent of flowers in the breeze."

"Hmm… And saying our vows under one of those wisteria trees you love so much, brushing the petals from your hair as we kiss…"

Isis didn't know Seto could be so romantic, as Malik had always told her otherwise, and she begrudged every sweet word her love spoke to her brother instead of her.

A dreamy sigh. "Sounds perfect." More silence as the betrothed kissed again, and Isis felt her blood boil.

Isis was happy for her brother, yes.

But she would have been much happier if _she_ was wearing Seto Kaiba's ring instead.

* * *

The wedding was beautiful. It took place in a large garden venue, lush green trees and bushes and colorful flowers surrounding the pewage. White chairs faced a wisteria tree in full bloom, the purple and blue buds dancing in a slight breeze. There was a small pond nearby, with gracefully crafted rock waterfalls and blooming water flowers and a small family of ducks swimming on the surface.

Despite the gorgeous and spacious venue, there were very few guests. Isis and Rishid, of course, sat in the front row on Malik's side. Mokuba, Roland, and a few of Seto's other employees that he was close to sat on Seto's side.

Throughout the rest of the seats sat Malik's friends and Seto's business partners. Isis recognized and chatted with Yugi and Anzu, and a blonde woman with eyes as purple as Malik's and a smile as charming as Seto's, and Isis felt terrible that she couldn't remember the woman's name from the Battle City finals.

The wedding began, and Malik and Seto lead each other down the aisle. Malik had said something about it symbolizing their equal footing in their relationship, but Isis knew better. She knew they had had a fight about who was to be lead down the aisle by whom. As much as she hated their union, it comforted her to know they still fought like they always had.

Her eyes watched Seto. He looked dashing in his black tux, the blue bowtie and vest complimenting his eyes; hair combed back elegantly out of his eyes for once and his perpetual scowl had softened into a subtle smile as the two stopped before the cleric, turned to each other, and took the other's hands. Isis continued to watch Seto as the clerk gave his speech; the way his eyes scanned Malik's face, the way a smile wrinkled at the corners of the man's eyes, the way his thumbs stroked Malik's knuckles.

They said their vows. Seto slid the ring onto Malik's left ring finger, kissing it, and Malik did the same. They said their _I do's_. And, finally, they kissed; Malik cupped both Seto's cheeks, and Seto held him by the shoulders.

Their guests clapped, and Isis heard at least one cat call from one of Malik's friends.

The newlyweds began to retreat back down the aisle, but both stopped to hug their siblings before leaving all together. Malik brought Isis into a tight embrace and kissed her cheeks, mistaking her tears of anger and jealousy for those of happiness.

Isis was starting to hate her brother…

Because her brother had the one thing she could never have.

* * *

Two years later, Malik and Seto sat Isis down in their living room, and Isis tried to keep her expression neutral as she watched how casually her love's arm draped over her brother's shoulders. Her fingers gripped the mug of tea they'd given her, and she liked to imagine it was her hatred that made the brew hot enough to scorch her tongue when she took a sip.

"We have something very important to ask you, Sister," Malik began slowly, a somber tone to his now usually happy voice (The voice, Isis reminded herself bitterly, that had only become happy once Seto became a permanent fixture in his life). Isis nodded for him to continue, so he did.

"Well, as I've probably mentioned, Seto and I are starting to think about having kids." She saw Seto nod in agreement. "We've both agreed that adoption is the best choice, but even still, we both want at least one biological child."

Isis' insides twisted painfully, leaving her breathless. She knew where this was going, and she didn't like it one bit. Even still, she felt her heart well when she saw how Seto was gazing at her, never before seeing that imploring expression on her love's face before.

"We would be honored if you were to be our surrogate," Malik continued after sharing a look with his husband. "Seto as the donor, of course," he added when he saw Isis blanch, assuming she had paled because of that instead of the thought of having a baby with her love. "That way the baby will have a part of both of us."

"It would mean the world to us, Isis," Seto said softly, his gaze burrowing into Isis' in a way that was so different than when they dueled in Battle City, when Seto was all arrogance and ego and passion, and yet so similar it made her heart ache. He had matured _so much_ in those eight years, calmed down and had gotten a grip on his ego, fallen in love and settled down. But not with her.

"I…" She wanted to say no. She wanted to stand up and throw the tea in their faces and leave. She wanted to scream and break things and cry. She wanted to strangle her brother for even daring to ask her to be their surrogate, because _she_ deserved Seto, not Malik! She deserved to be settled down and having kids with her love!

But she didn't. She couldn't bring herself to. Because Seto was staring at her expectantly, pleadingly, and she couldn't say no to the man she loved but couldn't have.

"I'd love to," she found herself whispering, and she barely felt Malik hugging her because at the same moment Seto smiled and hugged her, too, and her anger drained from her body.

She would carry their child, but not for her brother.

For the man she loved but could not have.

* * *

Visits from Malik and Seto had become more frequent the further along her pregnancy became. She was now seven months, her belly large and swollen with her almost-child, and the two visited practically every day. Sometimes Malik came alone, and she had to force herself to keep her sharp words to herself. Sometimes Seto came with him, and that was better. But Seto never came alone.

Today Seto had come to visit with Malik, and they'd brought her some food she had been craving, and a soft polar fleece blanket, and her favorite candle scents, and a few books that she'd been wanting to read but hadn't gotten around to buying because even getting up was a pain. They often spoiled her with gifts like this to make her happy and comfortable, but Isis always pretended they were just from Seto. She'd thanked them both as she was presented with the gifts, though her eyes focused on Seto. Her brother might as well not even exist anymore.

Malik took the basket of food to the kitchen to plate his sister up a big helping. While he was gone, Seto sat beside her, and her heart leapt to the back of her throat at the unexpected closeness.

His hand hovered above her stomach. "May I?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. His hand lay flat on her round belly, stroking the curve of her body and smiling bright when he felt the baby nudge against his hand. Isis, used to the kicks, still felt in awe and breathless- this was the first and only time Seto had touched her.

"We've decided on names," Seto said conversationally, his eyes on her stomach and Isis's eyes on his hand. "Hikaru if it's a boy, Amira if it's a girl." Another kick had him grinning, truly grinning, not that scathing grin he'd had as a teenager- and Isis barely recognized him, he looked so happy.

"They're both wonderful names," Isis replied gently, her hand coming to cover his. He didn't seem to mind, the touch. Actually, he seemed encouraged, and he leaned in and pressed his cheek to her stomach.

"Two more months," he said softly. "Two more months and we'll finally get to meet you, little one."

Isis knew the 'we' Seto spoke of was he and Malik but, with Malik out of the room, and Seto sitting so close to her, it almost felt like as if _they_ were the ones who were married, were in love, and the child Isis was carrying was her own, conceived with Seto out of love and passion instead of _need because Malik wasn't capable of carrying his own._ She could forget her brother's existence and pretend that that was how it was, because that was how it _should_ be.

When Malik returned to the room with a plate full of food, she hung her head and cried. The two men, unfamiliar with all the symptoms of pregnancy, assumed the sudden tears were caused by a mood swing. Isis didn't correct them when questioned.

She still hated her brother, and she still loved Seto Kaiba.

And she cried because she had had a taste of what could have been.

* * *

Isis held the baby in her arms, petting her damp head and admiring her pinched face. She had skin the color of raw umber, and the thin wisps of hair on her tiny head were dark, though it was too soon to say whether they were brown or black. Her eyes were piercing blue, a trait shared by both her parents – _her real parents,_ Isis added in her head. She cooed at her almost-child, loving her already, hating that she'd have to let her go. She wouldn't be this baby's mother, she would be her aunt. Would her brother ever tell the girl how she came to be? Her heart ached at the thought of her not knowing, and Isis resolved to tell her when she was old enough to understand.

"May I?"

Isis glanced up, seeing Seto hovering above her with his arms outstretched. Isis knew what he wanted but hesitant to hand over the baby –her child as much as his!- for fear of not getting her back. But seeing him looking at her, at her child, with so many raw emotions present on his usually stoic face made her reluctance crumble, once more reminded of what could have been, should have been.

She carefully handed over the baby, and Seto held her close in his arms.

"Hello, Amira," he whispered to the little girl in his arms, smiling wide as she waved her little fists about. He kissed her forehead, and Isis' heart broke, mourning the family she would never have.

Malik came to Seto's side, arm around his husband while his free hand cupped the baby's head. "She's beautiful… She looks just like you." The two smiled at each other, and Seto carefully transferred Amira to Malik's arms so he could wrap Malik up in an embrace.

Isis would have fumed, but she was too weak from labor to do much more than glare as her once dear brother kissed her child, and kissed her love, and without even meaning to she'd turned away when he came to kiss her cheek in thanks.

"Isis?" his voice was hurt, questioning- she'd never rejected his kisses, even when she was at her most hateful. But she was at her limit.

"I'm tired," she half-lied, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to see Malik anymore. She couldn't stand the sight of him any longer. So she closed her eyes and slept.

She thought back to her mother, how she had died in labor.

Isis almost wished she had suffered the same fate.

* * *

"Auntie!"

Five years had turned her almost-child into a sweet and happy girl, with ribbons in her black hair and golden bracelets on her umber wrists. It still felt wrong that Amira called her 'auntie' instead of 'mommy' but Isis was just glad she still got to be around her baby. She always picked the girl up from school and fed her dinner, because both her love and her brother worked too late now to do so.

She stooped and scooped the girl up as gracefully as her pregnant belly would allow. She nuzzled her baby's cheek and held her close, relishing in her giggles.

"How are you doing, little one?" she asked the girl, who put her arms around her neck and got comfortable in her arms.

"Good! Daddy took me to his park today, and he let me ride on the merry-go-round. But he said I'm too little for the other rides!" She ended with a pout, looking entirely put off the situation.

"Well, he's right you know," she said, beginning to walk back the way she'd come. "You are too little for some rides. Why, if you got on the rollercoaster, you'd fall out of the seat because the seatbelt is for grownups!"

Amira was shocked at this, like she'd never considered this- and probably hadn't. Isis smiled.

"But don't worry, you'll be grown up soon, too, and then you can ride on all the rides."

Now Amira grinned. "Babaan said that if I ate my broccoli and drank my milk, I'd grow as big and strong as him!"

Isis' expression darkened at the mention of her brother, but she tried to hide it for Amira's sake. "And he is right, too. Your Babaan and your Uncle Rishy ate lots of broccoli growing up-" an innocent lie, "and look how strong they are."

"Did you eat your broccoli, too, Auntie Sis?"

"Of course! How do you think I can carry you and Seth at once?"

Amira grinned and looked at her aunt's swelled stomach. "I can't wait until he's born, so I can have a little cousin to play with!"

Isis wished she had the courage to tell Amira Seth would be her half-brother, but she stayed silent, carrying her daughter home.

She had settled. She had settled for a man who was not Seto, but one who was polite and sweet and treated her well. She loved her husband, but she was not in love with him. A part of her knew Salim knew that she was not completely his, but he said nothing when she turned her head away from his kisses and acted like she didn't hear him when he told her he loved her. But they were happy, they were content, and they were expecting. They were happy. She was happy.

That's what she kept telling herself.

If she stopped, then her illusion would break.

* * *

She hated her brother. The brother she had held as a baby and cherished like a precious gemstone, cooing nonsense words just to hear him giggle and see him smile; the brother whom she had snuck outside despite the risk of her father's wrath, just so he could see the surface world before being locked in a tomb for the rest of his life, just so he could be happy; the brother she had once risked her very life to save when his heart was clouded over by darkness and he became a prisoner in his own mind.

She had once loved him. But she grew to hate him, because she took her love away.

She hated him. But that didn't mean she wanted him _dead._

She sat in the waiting room beside Rishid, and across from Seto. They were all silent. Rishid had his arms crossed and his eyes closed, praying. Isis had her hands folded in her lap and her eyes closed, praying. Seto had his face in his hands, eyes closed, tapping his feet and pulling his hair and shifting in his seat and winding himself into a big ball of stress. Seto owned this hospital, and it had some of the best surgeons in the world. Even still, no one expected a miracle.

Isis had told Malik several times that his bike was going to get him killed one of these days, what with the reckless way he drove it and the lack of padding and protection he wore. Who knew it would be a drunk driver who took him down instead of a wheelie gone wrong? Who would have ever thought a bike as large as Malik's could be crushed into an unrecognizable chunk of metal when plowed down by a four wheeler? Who knew her brother, who had been so strong in both body and spirit, could be killed by something as random as a snapped neck?

It was amazing and terrifying how fragile the human body was.

It felt like hours before the doctor stepped into the waiting room, but checking the clock showed it had only been thirty minutes, which Isis knew was s very bad sign. Her stomach dropped as the doctor motioned Seto aside, alone, and premature tears welled in her eyes.

She watched her love and the doctor through blurry vision. After a moment, Seto struck the doctor. The crack of his open palm on the man's cheek made Isis flinch.

"I don't pay you to make excuses!" Seto shouted. "Get back in there and save him!"

"There's nothing we can do!" the doctor returned, all patience and procedure gone due to the slap. "He's suffered internal decapitation. Very few people actually survive that. We tried everything we could do to save him, but-"

"Liar!" Seto cut him off, raising his hand as if to hit him again, but he just pointed to the door. "You're fired! Get out of my building. Roland! Find me someone competent and get them to Malik's room immediately!"

Isis wondered if Kaiba truly believed Malik could survive a crash like that, or if he knew it was hopeless and was just in denial. Rishid was already crying beside her, and Isis could feel tears streaming down her own face. As she watched, Seto screamed orders at a different doctor whom Roland was dragging around by the arm but, once they were out of sight, her love collapsed to his knees, pulled at his hair, and cried.

Isis had hated her brother.

But she had never wished for _this._

* * *

A year hadn't lessened the pain any, for any of them. Isis stood at the edge of the cemetery, her husband having dropped her off, clutching a small arrangement of flowers in her hand as she watched the man and their daughter pray at the headstone. From this distance she couldn't tell if Seto was crying, but she could see the shaking of Amira's shoulders. Seto stopped praying and pulled her into a tight hug, letting her cry into his shoulder as he picked her up.

He moved to the gate to leave, but stopped when he saw Isis and nodded a greeting, not trusting himself to speak. Isis stepped forward and pulled the two close, for once having no thoughts of what could have been, should have been. She thought only of her brother, his excitement over the phone when he'd told her he was engaged, and his smiling face on his wedding day. His joy when he'd held Amira in his arms for the first time, and how he'd made her flower necklaces when he was a child. She whispered comforting words into Seto's ear and he buried his face in her shoulder, his free hand clutching the fabric of her dress between her shoulder blades as he fought to control his tears. Amira huddled between them, still crying.

"I'm sure if Malik could see you like this, he'd be teasing you," Isis said gently, stroking his hair. At once time, the very thought of touching Seto made her weak in the knees. Now she just felt sick.

She felt more than heard Seto's huff of a laugh. She smiled and pressed a small, innocent kiss to his temple before moving away, turning her face to the side so he could scrub his tears away without an audience.

"He loved you more than the sun," Isis said once Seto had finished cleaning his face on his sleeve. "And if you knew my brother as well as I hope you did, you will know what that means."

Seto nodded silently, looking like he wanted to cry again but holding it back, pressing a kiss into Amira's hair as her sobs turned to hiccups.

"Thank you."

Isis smiled at her love- no, her brother-in-law, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Come over for dinner tonight. Rishid and I are making all of Malik's favorites."

Again Seto nodded. Without another word he left, letting Isis have her moment of peace with Malik.

She crossed over to the grave, eyeing the blue and purple flowers Seto had laid on the ground, and the crayon drawing of Malik, Seto, and Amira holding hands Amira had left, set under a rock so it wouldn't blow away in the wind. Isis blinked back the tears threatening to fall and kneeled down, laying her own flowers down beside Seto's.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, barely a sigh. She felt a breeze caress her cheeks and she dropped her head into her hands, sobbing quietly into her palms.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- _I'm so sorry, Malik_."

The words rolled off her tongue like a chant, her shoulders shaking with sobs and tears making her cheeks sticky. She had mourned when he died a year prior, but she had never truly let herself cry like this.

She sat there for hours, eventually finding herself with her back against Malik's headstone, her knees up to her chest to conserve warmth. She had stopped saying sorry long ago, and began to tell him everything she had ever felt and thought towards him and Seto. It needed to be said, and she felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders. The breeze kissed her cheeks again, and she had a feeling Malik forgave her. She apologized again, staring up at the sun beginning to dip below the trees. She stood and brushed herself off, kissing her fingers and pressing them to the cold stone surface of the headstone.

It was getting late, and she had a dinner to make for the man she thought she had loved.

A dinner of all of Malik's favorites, in memory of her brother, whom she loved.


End file.
